Disintegration
by desespoir
Summary: She’s stopped singing. It’s been three months. Rachel/Puck. Triple-shot. COMPLETE.
1. Disintegration

Title: Disintegration

Author: desespoir

Notes: Totally going to feed into that to-be cliché of this ship: Puck breaks up with Rachel because he doesn't think he's good enough for her. She goes off to New York for school and he stays in Ohio. This is what happens in between.

Disclaimer: Clearly, I do not own _Glee _because if I did, Mark Salling would be shirtless for the entire show. Lyrics below belong to Bright Eyes.

_Touch. Lying on the floor wishing this could last, knowing that it can't and soon you will leave. _

-*-

_March 15__th__, 2012_

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She gripped the sides of the letter, her fingers pressing so hard into the paper that she could feel it start to rip. Her tears splatter onto the page, her vision grows cloudy, and all she can do is sink down to the floor as her knees give out.

She can't even read past the first line: "Congratulations, Rachel! Columbia University welcomes you into the Class of…"

All she can do is stare listlessly out her front door that is sprung wide open and watch silently as he walks out her house and towards his car.

His words echo in her ear. _It's over. You're the one that's leaving_.

She wipes the tears out of her eyes and crumples the piece of paper in her hands before whipping it at the wall.

It was never supposed to be like this.

-*-

_June 4__th__, 2012_

She keeps looking over her shoulder as she walks up to the stage. He has to be here. He wouldn't miss this.

Graduation.

It was over. Her four years of high school had finally come to an end as much as she hated to admit it, she would miss Lima. It would always be home to her no matter where she was in the world. She glanced into the crowd and waved goofily at Kurt who was sitting next to Mercedes. They had come. They had graduated a year earlier and had flown back to Lima specifically for her graduation.

She readjusts the cap on her head as she walks up the ramp, her steps getting slower as she realizes with each step, she was walking towards her future and away from all that she knew. For the first time in her life, she wasn't eager for stardom and glory. She was scared – absolutely terrified at what would come next.

She could feel the bright smile begin to melt off her face and her hands were trembling as it all hit her. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and looked up into the eyes of Miss Pillsbury, who was smiling softly at her.

"Congratulations, Rachel."

She hates those words. They remind her of that day.

She nods numbly and shakes hands with a few more important members of the community including Sue Sylvester who just gives her a tight smile and touches her hand only briefly before moving onto the next person.

That was it. She had her diploma and she was done. High school was over.

She looks back out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the bleachers for that familiar mohawk.

He wasn't there.

Her diploma almost slips out of her hands as she chokes back a sob.

_He promised_.

-*-

_September 17__th__, 2012_

She almost swears that she sees him on the sidewalk outside her dorm but she knows that it's a passing fantasy – a vision, delusion, fallacy.

Whatever it was, it wasn't real.

He's a figment of her imagination and no matter how much she hopes, wishes, prays, dreams that he would be outside, begging to see her, she knows it will never happen.

She still loves him. She still thinks about him every second of every minute of every hour of every single day.

She doesn't speak to her roommate who has given up trying to get to know her after the first week. She's almost catatonic.

But, she never quite loses that grip on reality. She's Rachel Berry.

She's gotten this far and she will never let that go. So, she throws herself into academics and her classes.

Her GPA is amazing and she's fairly certain that she will graduate summa cum laude.

She's stopped singing. It's been three months.

-*-

_February 14__th__, 2013_

It's the first Valentine's Day that she's spent alone in nearly three years. She doesn't feel quite as alone as she expected she would though.

She sits in her room and stuffs her face with chocolate chip cookies as she skypes with Kurt. He brags about the wonderful southern California weather and his latest celebrity sighting in Los Angeles.

It's simple and it's easy.

He doesn't ask her if _he's_ called her and she doesn't tell him about all the auditions she's missed. He doesn't know and she can't tell him. It'll break his heart.

So, she smiles and eats another cookie.

It doesn't hurt as much today.

-*-

_March 15__th__, 2013_

She stares at her calendar and it's absolutely mind-boggling that it's been one year. She's lived a single year without any form of contact from him. She doesn't know if he's still living in Ohio. She doesn't even know if he's still alive.

She stops herself from thinking about him. Her mind seems to have grown accustomed to the vacant spot where his memory was.

It's like a gaping black hole.

But, she ignores it.

It's been one year. She crosses the date out, making a big black X on the calendar with her sharpie, like she does all the other days.

She can feel the tears prickling behind her eyes but she bites down on her lip. It isn't until her calendar is covered with black sharpie scratches that she feels slightly better.

She takes in a deep breath, caps her sharpie, and rips down the calendar from the wall, throwing it into the trash.

She hates March.

-*-

_April 19__th__, 2013_

She hears a knock on her door and is slightly annoyed as she has a major term paper due the next day.

"Come in."

The knock is more insistent this time and she lets out a heavy sigh before trudging her way to the door. She whips it open, a glare firmly affixed on her pretty face.

She falls against the doorframe and her eyes are wide in shock.

"Noah?" She manages to gasp out.

He's just as painfully gorgeous as he's always been and she can't help herself as she reaches out to touch him, needing concrete evidence that he's real.

Her hand is shaking and she can't find her voice. He grasps her hand gently in his own, marveling at how small it was. She had always been so fragile.

His hand is warm. She can't find the right words but when she feels his grip around her hand tighten she quickly retracts it and shakes her head violently.

"No. You can't do this."

He tries to speak but she won't let him.

"Leave, Noah. Just go."

She slams the door in his face.

She decides she hates April too.

-*-

_April 20__th__, 2013_

_8:25 AM _

She leaves her room knowing that she's going to be late for her first lecture. It's not a habit that she partakes in often. She nearly trips on her way out.

She looks down and sees him leaning against the wall next to her room. He spent the night in her hallway.

There are dark circles under his eyes and his jaw is more clearly defined. He's lost weight. She lets out a sigh and kicks his shoes. He jolts awake and she feels a pang of guilt in her heart before she pushes it away.

He doesn't deserve her pity or her sympathy.

"You can sleep in my room."

She can hardly believe the words that are coming out of her mouth.

"I have to go to class. I'll be back in an hour."

He just nods dumbly at her and she finds that she can't look him in the eye, not when he gazes up at her like that. Like he still loves her.

He can't. He broke her heart on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

Noah Puckerman did not love Rachel Berry.

"My side is by the window."

She runs down the hallway. She's three minutes late to class.

-*-

_April 20__th__, 2013_

_10:30 AM_

She's been pacing outside her door for nearly an hour. A few of her hallmates have passed by her, giving her curious glances and she knows that she probably looks like a lunatic right now.

She can't go in though. She can't make herself open the door because on the other side is her first love, her only love.

God, she was pathetic.

She leans her head against the cool metal of her door and quiets her mind.

She turns the door knob and walks in. He's still sleeping.

She shrugs off her jacket and her tote bag falls to the floor. She kicks off her shoes and crawls into bed with him.

Almost immediately, he wraps her arms around her sleepily. He's probably not even aware that it's her that he's hugging.

She closes her eyes and lets the tears slide down her face as she leans back into him.

She hates that it feels so right to be in his arms again.

She wishes this could last and she could just stay in this moment forever.

She knows she can't.

-*-


	2. Corner of Your Heart

Title: Corner of Your Heart

Author: desespoir

Notes: Sequel/Puck's POV to "Disintegration". It really was going to be a one-shot when I posted it but I love the angst.

Disclaimer: Clearly, I do not own _Glee _because if I did, Mark Salling would be required to date me as part of his contract. Lyrics below belong to Dashboard Confessional.

_But, I believe in you so much that I could die for the words that you say. Just bend the pieces until they fit like they were made for it. But, they weren't meant for this. _

-*-

_January 1__st__, 2012_

She's drunk.

It's probably one of the few times Rachel Berry's ever gotten drunk and all he can do is stand there, enraptured, watching as she danced around the room, singing random show tunes that pop into her head.

She's gorgeous. And perfect. And beautiful. And heartbreakingly talented. She's miles ahead of him, always planning, always striving for something better.

She slows herself down, he knows. She waits for him to catch up.

And, it drives him insane because he knows that he will always be the one, the reason, the sole purpose, that she stops herself.

She doesn't need him and it feels like every passing moment, every kiss, every touch, every caress is just a lie.

It can't last. He knows it can't.

She stumbles into his arms and smiles up at him brightly and kisses him sloppily. He grabs the back of her head, gently cradling it in his palm as she molds his body against his.

He's rougher than usual but he can't help himself. He's a selfish bastard.

So, he'll keep taking and he'll keep lying.

It'll all fall apart one day but he needs another moment with her. He can't give it up.

Not yet.

-*-

_May 28__th__, 2012_

Lima is approximately 91.8 miles away from Columbus and Ohio State. The drive will take him two hours.

He's pathetic. He checks her myspace page obsessively and every day, he thanks god that she hasn't defriended him on facebook. So, he stalks her. He asks about her, as subtly as he can, from Quinn and Finn.

It's not subtle. It's glaringly obvious that he's still as obsessed and in love with her as he's always been but he tells himself that it's for the best and that he's getting better.

It is for the best. He is not getting better.

He promised her that he would be there and he might be the sorriest jerk on the face of the planet right now, but he never broke a promise.

He would be there.

She just wouldn't know it. He will hide under the bleachers in the spot where they used to sneak off to and make out in between free periods.

It is for the best. He keeps telling himself that.

Maybe one of these days, he'll actually believe it.

-*-

_August 31__st__, 2012_

He drinks more than he should and the bartender cuts him off.

He can barely think much less function yet he still can't forget her. He still can't make his brain shut up. He still can't stop the stinging in his chest.

He's a sad excuse. He demands another shot of tequila but the bartender sends him a sharp glare and shakes his head. He's saying something but Puck can't seem to make himself care or listen.

He mutters curses under his breath before he stumbles out of the bar.

The air in Ohio is warm, hot, heavy. It's humid like it is during most summers. He wonders what it's like in New York.

She started orientation last week. He looked it up on the Columbia website. He really has become her very own stalker and she doesn't know. She will never know.

Even if she did, she'd never give him the time of day now anyway. She was probably already on her way to being a big star, going to back-to-back auditions daily. A small smile creeps onto his face. She's probably already gotten her first part.

She is doing better for herself and that makes all of this worth it.

When he gets home that night, he kisses the picture that Tina took of them when they won Nationals the second time in a row.

He falls into bed and whispers into the dark.

"Sweet dreams, love."

It's what he does every night.

-*-

_September 14__th__, 2012_

This was all Quinn's doing. She had come stomping into his apartment, shoving a plane ticket in his face. She had screamed and yelled, even got close to tears at one point, and demanded that he go to New York.

"You are pathetic." She spat at him. "What happened to you? The Puck I knew would never sink down to this level." She shook her head, her eyes sad. "Go to her. She needs you."

She dropped the ticket onto the floor in front of him and slammed the door behind her.

-*-

_September 17__th__, 2012_

He doesn't even pack.

He slings his backpack over his shoulder as he de-boards the plane. New York. He was in New York.

He doesn't know what he'll say to her. He doesn't even know if he'll get the guts up to talk to her.

The subway ride into the city takes longer than he expected but soon he finds himself in front of the gated entrance to Columbia. The buildings tower around him and he takes in a calming breath.

His palms are sweaty and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the information that Quinn had scribbled down for him. He takes a step towards the front entrance.

It's not like the way it is in the movies. Sure, his world starts spinning and all the breath escapes his lungs but instead of happiness or relief, he feels like someone is ripping apart his chest or had just punched him in the gut.

She's only 20 feet away from him yet they are still separated by a mass of people. He stands outside the gated doors, staring in at a world that he will never be a part of.

She smiles and his heart feels like it will explode at any moment. Her hair is longer, straighter. There are dark circles under her eyes but she's still just as beautiful as he remembered her to be.

She glances in his direction and for a moment, he thinks she sees him. He raises his hand to wave at her.

Stupid. Idiot.

She turns away from him though and starts walking in the opposite direction. He's still waving. He can't seem to make himself stop.

The people around him don't even pause to ask him what's wrong when tears begin to slip out of his eyes and down his face.

-*-

_November 28__th__, 2012_

It's his birthday today. He stares at the phone. He doesn't know why he expects her to call. It just seems like the _her _thing to do.

He can't think of her name. He can barely think of the thought of her but he's gotten better.

Really, he has.

Two more minutes to midnight. She has two minutes left to call.

He uncaps the bottle of whisky and leans back on his couch. He needs for her to call. He doesn't deserve it but he needs to hear her voice, not just over her myspace videos but live. He needs to hold her in his arms, feel the way her heart beats against his, the way that her skin pulses when he caresses her.

He needs her very being.

But, he can't have it. He was the one that made this choice. It just killed him that she didn't fight harder against him when he walked away.

She didn't call him. She didn't email him. She didn't contact him. She just let him walk out of her life.

It kills him to think of that. If she loved him, maybe she would've fought harder for him.

It's midnight.

She didn't call.

The alcohol burns as it slides down his throat but already he can feel it start to numb his senses.

-*-

_February 14__th__, 2013_

He's at the bar again and some stupid blonde slut is hanging all over him. He pushes her away in disgust as he takes another shot.

It's such a familiar scene now. He's sitting at a bar, alone, angry, drunk, and it's not even 8PM yet. Never in his life has he felt more like his father.

He swallows hard and looks down at his phone. It's Valentine's Day. He sent her cookies because he knows how rarely she indulges herself and chocolate chip were always her weakness.

They don't have a return sender, of course. She won't know it's him.

He hopes she likes them.

He hopes she's thinking of him.

-*-

_April 16__th__, 2013_

Kurt Hummel is the last person he expects to see at his door. He furrows his brow in confusion before he offers an awkward hello and welcomes him into his apartment.

Kurt steps in, surveys the place with an upturned nose. "Charming."

He knows it's not. It's a mess.

"I wasn't expecting company."

"I'm in town for an interview for a summer internship. I thought I'd visit an old friend."

For the first time in a long time, Puck smiles.

They sit at the kitchen table and drink beers. The conversation flows easily and Puck can't remember the last time that he's done this with someone. Just talk and hang out.

It's been so long.

Kurt takes a small sip and clears his throat. "Do you ever talk to her?"

He knows exactly who he is referring to and all he can manage is a painful shake of the head.

"She's not the same, you know?"

He's silent.

"She never tells me about her auditions or any roles she's gotten. I don't think she's gone to any while she's been there actually." Kurt confesses. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's stopped singing altogether."

Puck's head shoots up and he leans in closer, invading Kurt's private space. "What do you mean she's stopped singing? She can't. That's why she went there – she's supposed to make something of herself."

"I know." Kurt began slowly. "I don't think she can though. Singing reminds her too much of you."

Puck runs his hand across his face as reality sinks into his mind. She's stopped singing. All this time, he kept focusing on how heartbroken and destroyed he was, thinking that she had moved on.

But, she hadn't.

She needed him.

-*-

_April 20__th__, 2013_

6:04 AM

He can't pretend that it didn't hurt when she slammed the door in his face but he was standing his ground. He would not run away not when she needed him.

He hasn't slept. He simply listened to her shuffling around her room for most of the night. At around 2AM, he finally hears her turn off the light and go to bed. He looks at his watch. It's 6 AM and she's not up, blasting music and working out.

So much has changed.

-*-

_April 20__th__, 2013_

10:45 AM

He doesn't sleep while he's left alone in her room. He takes the time to explore every single inch of it. He sees that she's still kept a picture of him in the dresser by her bedside.

He hears her outside and hops into the bed, feigning sleep. He carefully opens his eyes after ten minutes when he realizes that she's just standing out there.

It's not until an hour later that she finally comes in. He quickly shuts his eyes and evens out his breathing.

He does not expect her to crawl into bed with him.

He wraps his arms around her and relishes the feel of having her in his arms again. She's so small, fragile, and beautiful.

She's just Rachel.

She's perfect.

She falls asleep within five minutes and he kisses the top of her head. He will fix this, he promises himself.

"Sweet dreams, love."

He closes his eyes and pulls her closer.

-*-


	3. For Blue Skies

Title: For Blue Skies

Author: desespoir

Notes: I should stop saying this story is complete and that every part I post is going to be the last because we all know I'm not fooling anyone. Kind of obsessed with writing this one and I LOVE all the support, reviews, and ideas. Keep them coming – I might actually keep this one going. You are all amazing. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I think we've established by now that I don't own _Glee_ which is the sad, sad truth. Lyrics below belong to Regina Spektor. The lines from _Romeo & Juliet_ belong to William Shakespeare.

_It's like forgetting the words to your favorite song. You can't believe it, you were always singing along. It was so easy and the words so sweet. You can't remember. You try to feel the beat. _

-*-

_April 20__th__, 2013_

2:00 PM

She keeps herself at a safe distance away from him and sits at her desk, her hand clutching the side of the table, as if pressing her very being into it is the only thing that is saving her from collapsing to the ground.

What was the right thing to do now? Was she supposed to welcome him back with open arms?

She wants to go to him. She wants to slap him. She wants to kiss him. She wants to yell at him and make him feel everything she's felt for the past year. She wants him to suffer. She wants him feel the vulnerability that she feels every moment that she stays in his presence.

She wants him to tell her that he still loves her. And then she wants to fall into his arms and never leave. She wants him to tell her that everything that happened in the past year was just a bad memory and that they were okay.

She wants him to tell her that they would be okay. She wants him to lie to her. She needs it.

But she says nothing. And he says nothing.

So, they sit there. She stares at the ground. He looks out the window, hands clasped tightly around his knees.

The room is silent. It is not easy like it used to be.

-*-

_April 27__th__, 2013_

He comes by her door every morning before her class to take her out to breakfast.

It's what they used to do together in Lima. She remembers the local diner that made the best waffles served with real strawberry topping. It was her favorite and every Sunday morning, bright and early, she would get her fix. Most days, they sat in his car in the school parking lot, sharing breakfast sandwiches or granola bars.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee and she cannot ignore the thought when it flashes through her brain.

This is not the same.

-*-

_May 5__th__, 2013_

She finds that it is easier to look in his general direction now but she still can't look him in the eye.

They spend at least a few hours every day together yet she can't seem to find the point. What were they doing?

She honestly didn't know.

He rented an apartment a few blocks away from her dorm. She doesn't know why he did it. She doesn't know what he expects or what he wants from her.

She doesn't know how to do this. How does one do this? How does one fix something like this?

She feels confused all the time. Her emotions are a jumbled mess and when she wakes up, most days, she just wants to crawl back in her bed and scream into her pillow.

She doesn't know what to do. So, she takes the lie with a bitter swallow and bites her tongue as they sit side by side in the movie theater.

She doesn't pay attention to the movie. She makes sure she stays on her side. She trains her eyes so that they don't wander off and stare at him in confusion and longing and hurt.

She just stares ahead, blankly.

It will have to do for now.

-*-

_May 16__th__, 2013_

She's almost done with her very first year in college. She's midway through studying for her finals. She's scanning through her flashcards when she hears him shuffle behind her. She looks back at him.

He sits on her bed looking through the local newspaper for job openings. It's what they do now.

They sit. She studies. He looks for a job. She hates it. He is there physically but he is not actually there; it is just a vacant and empty space.

They still have not talked. She doesn't know what to say.

She slams her textbook down onto her desk and whips around at him. She looks him dead in the eye and shakes her head in disbelief.

"What are we doing, Noah? What is this?"

The question hangs in the air, unanswered.

"What is this, Noah? We haven't talked about anything. I can't keep going on like this, pretending that we're okay when we're not. Why are you here? Why did you come?"

He is still quiet.

She stands up and starts pacing around the room, running her hand through her hair in frustration.

"Say something, Noah. Please." She begs him, her brown eyes imploring for him to answer her. "Just say something." She whispers. "Anything."

She stands directly in front of him, their bodies only separated by centimeters yet they were so far away. She reaches out and touches his head gently. He leans into her stomach and wraps his arms around her midsection.

She can feel the tears begin to slide down her face. They are nothing compared to the wetness she feels on her shirt or the intensity of his grip.

-*-

_June 9__th__, 2013_

Her hands are shaking. Her hands grip the paper so tightly that she's positive she'll rip them apart at any moment.

She feels a calming hand on her shoulder and nervously, she smiles back at him.

"You can do this."

His rich voice washes over her. She nods numbly and lets out a heavy sigh. She closes her eyes when she hears the guitar begin to strum.

It's exactly how she remembered it. The air builds up in her stomach, the sound traveling up her entire body and erupting out, past her lips.

She sings.

It feels so damn good.

-*-

_June 16__th__, 2013_

She holds the phone to her ear. The call ended over a minute ago but she can't seem to let go of the phone.

Noah sits across from her and stares at her expectantly. "Well, what happened? What did they say?"

She laughs, the sound unfamiliar to her own ears. "I got the part."

A wide grin breaks out on his face and he seems happier than he has ever been. The youthful gleam returns to his eyes. He is so handsome.

She promises herself that she will audition for as many roles and practice as hard as she has to if he will smile like that every single time.

She grins back at him and throws herself into his arms. He smells like fresh laundry and cotton. Her body melts into his.

They had been in this bizarre form of relationship purgatory for the past two months and everyday, it gnawed at her heart. Every night, she closed her eyes, wishing that the next morning, she would awake to a life that made sense and someone that loved her.

She doesn't have that quite yet.

But, she's getting there.

-*-

_July 29__th__, 2013_

Central Park is beautiful in the summer time. She sits on the grass and dusts an invisible piece of lint from her sun dress.

It's yellow. She doesn't typically wear the color but it seemed fitting for today. She takes a sip of the chilled orange juice and basks in the sunlight.

_If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:_  
_Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,  
I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,  
So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world._

Shakespeare in the Park is one of her favorite things about New York, she's decided. She turns to Noah, her brown eyes watching him adoringly. He looks off into the distance, watching an owner play with a puppy by the lake.

His palm is upturned, his posture relaxed. He is comfortable. The worry lines and dark circles have begun to fade.

She reaches out, hesitantly, her hand hanging in mid-air. She takes a deep breath and gently, places her hand in his.

His head immediately snaps back to her. He seems to switch his gaze back from her hand to her face, his eyes deep, trying to read and understand what she's trying to express.

She smiles cautiously at him, her breath catching in her throat.

He leans in slowly. The air grows heavy around them.

The moment their lips touch, Rachel melts into him and lets out a deep sigh that she's been holding in for so long.

It was perfection and in that moment, things were right again.

-*-


End file.
